


New in Town

by KatieKat527



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Durarara!!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:43:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieKat527/pseuds/KatieKat527
Summary: Buffy Summers has arrived in Ikebukuro.





	New in Town

**Author's Note:**

> This was written SO incredibly quickly. Just a little something to get myself into writing again. Hope you enjoy :)

It wasn’t the first time Buffy found herself as a stranger in a strange land.

Admittedly, it might be the first that said land was Japan and not, say, a hellish landscape with little hope of survival. Still, she was alone in a country where English was _not_ predominant, while having to use mostly a wing and a prayer to question witnesses about supernatural activity. It ranked at least a five on the ‘well, fuck me’ scale.

Satsu had been a lifesaver. Buffy had at least had some very basic Japanese at her disposal thanks to the newbie slayer. She could cop to some guilt since she knew the lessons had been because of an unrequited crush, but it proved damned useful on occasion.

Like this occasion for instance.

From the outside, Russia Sushi seemed iffy at best, possibly unbearably disgusting at worst. But Simon, in her short acquaintance with the man, was turning out to be a pretty cool guy. Willow had been the one to first check out Ikebukuro - a name she’d yet to have been forced to butcher out loud, thank God - and report the likelihood of hellmouthy-ness. The witch had been on other business at the time, but was quick to let Buffy in on her suspicions. She’d also made nice with the restaurant owner, who had promised to treat her best friend with a big discount when she arrived in the city.

Strange man, but food spoke to her in ways words could not so she couldn't complain.

So here she was, seated on a barstool and chitchatting with the large Russian as she skimmed the menu as if the words would magically turn from Kanji to English, when the restaurant door burst open, followed by a irritated voice spouting rapid-fire Japanese.

The man, evidently muttering to himself, with a scowl on his face, was definitely a looker. He was obviously Japanese, but significantly taller than the average height of most of the men she'd seen in the country. Skinny, but muscled from what she could gleam under that bartender outfit that somehow worked on him completely. His hair was bleached blonde and standing all over the place.

She was staring. She should stop. She hadn’t had sex in so long…

A cough interrupted her thoughts, and seemingly those of the extremely good looking newcomer.

Face lighting up, she quickly turned her head and subsequently met eyes with Simon. Who was smirking.

“Shut up,” she muttered, locking her gaze onto the menu again. 

With a chuckle he pulled it from her grasp, knowing it was incomprehensible to the blonde, and proceeded to greet the apparently familiar face before presumably choosing her meal for her. 

Her hormones needed to calm the hell down. Glancing up, she noticed the man had also sat down at the bar and already gone back to his own thoughts, muttering again what she could now tell were death threats.

Her face lit up for an entirely different reason. Novice though she was at the language, she was nothing if not consistent and had learned as many phrases to threaten someone as she possibly could in her lessons. Even Satsu had looked a mixture of perturbed and impressed by her creativity.

Feeling a bit of kinship - God knew how many times she’d walked away from a Spike confrontation in her life with the same tendencies - she couldn’t help but giggle.

That got his attention.

His scowl, while still somewhat present, softened as he turned to her abruptly.

He said… something, she hadn’t been paying attention because she’s an awful person and she’d always had a weakness for deep brown eyes, dammit. 

She opened her mouth to reply, with _what_ Powers only knew, but was interrupted by a loud crash resounding from outside.

Things happened pretty quickly from there. There was another annoyingly good looking, overly smirky man, not so tall but definitely striking with a fur lined coat. He and blondie exchanged barbs before a fight broke out involving STOP signs ripped from the pavement and metal benches being thrown through the air. 

It was the most entertaining thing she’d seen in awhile. It was probably only fair that she was enjoying it so much she almost missed the projectile vending machine being hurtled in her direction, having been dodged by the man she was pretty sure blondie was exclusively calling ‘flea.’ 

Within a fraction a of second she braced herself and caught it in its tracks. Carefully setting the ruined hunk of metal onto the ground, she let out a relieved sigh.

What she’d failed to notice until that very moment was the complete silence. Looking up slowly, she caught the wide eyes and open mouth of the bartender, as well as the disturbingly delighted smile of the one she was now calling Spike jr.

That wasn’t to mention the onlookers gaping at the tiny foreign woman defying the laws of physics.

Well, there went being inconspicuous.


End file.
